


Of Imprecise Value (likely to be changed)

by DontUnderestimateMe



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Gen, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Platonic Life Partners, Work In Progress, android!lock
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-24
Updated: 2015-02-11
Packaged: 2018-03-03 06:55:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2842058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DontUnderestimateMe/pseuds/DontUnderestimateMe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock is a Module Four Wireless Intelligent Lifeform, or WIL. It's his biggest secret and no one, other than Mycroft knows. Enter one unassuming ex-army doctor...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Introduction to the World

**Author's Note:**

> This is an un-betad, un-britpicked work in progress that I am posting from my phone. Updates will be far between as I'm writing it in a notebook and then transferring it over. Consider "chapter 1" an introduction to my little world.

It started with an idea, a single thought, as all things do. The creation of a thing in the form of a human being. The conception was a bit vague to begin with, but gradually grew into something many considered astounding and some considered playing God.

The Wireless Intelligent Lifeform, or WIL for short, was created by Arthur Peterson. The first module, issued five years ago, was nothing more than a database with user friendly interface that allowed an individual to access information in an expiditious and efficient manner. Module two offered the user the option of a WIL that was little more than an overly intelligent butler or maid.

The recently released module three showed signs of personal interests. Some enjoyed certain types of music over others, some chose to pursue certain career paths, and some learned how to play musical instruments.

Sherlock Holmes, named for the recently deceased younger brother of Mycroft Holmes, was special ordered with specific requirements. His love of criminology, geared specifically towards forensics, and expertise with the violin were only a couple of the details for what was considered the first module four. It was a testament to how much Mycroft loved and missed his younger brother that he also included a few of his less desirable traits, to include his argumentative nature.

The death of William Sherlock Scott Holmes had been kept under wraps, as was done for all SIS personnel. That being said, it was relatively easy to insert the module four into his brothers life. The flat at 221B Baker Street became his home.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I used the BBC Sherlock timeline according to:
> 
> http://bakerstreet.wikia.com/wiki/Sherlock_Timeline
> 
> for this chapter. If you notice any mistakes, please feel free to point them out to me, but keep in mind that I am working from a phone only and there are likely to be plenty. I have no beta-reader and no Brit-picker. Please be patient with the uploads for this story as I have a move coming up very soon and the next chapter is likely to take even longer than this one did, though once we get settled in they should come more frequently. Thank you for your patience. Please let me know what you think.

Neither Mycroft nor Mrs. Hudson had ever expected John Watson to enter their lives. They had managed perfectly well for the past year with nothing more than Detective Inspector Greg Lestrade and forensic pathologist Molly Hooper to keep Sherlock's processor from racing out of control with the speed at which he took in information. The distractions provided by the DI and the morgue attendant worked miracles when the WIL became bored enough to attempt to inject Sherlock's drug of choice, which never actually worked but was irritating for Mycroft nonetheless.

So when John Watson was ushered into the lab at St Barts one afternoon in late January, almost a year to the day after Sherlock passed and Mycroft inserted the WIL unit into his life, Mycroft considered the possibility that he was a plant; a spy placed in the line of his 'brother' in an attempt to suss out exactly why the last mission Sherlock took on for SIS was his last and was locked up so tight even the good Queen couldn't access the details. A thorough background check, a quick kidnapping, and the death of a serial killer cabbie (that couldn't have possibly harmed Sherlock in the first place) later and Mycroft realized that the only thing truly worrying about the ex-Army doctor was his apparent addiction to adrenaline. He could very well be even worse than Sherlock was when he was alive.

"Mycroft," John sighed as he allowed himself to drop into the wingback chair across from the government official. The chairs were placed in front of the fireplace, angled towards each other slightly with space between so the occupants knees didn't collide when seated. "What can I do for you?"

"You've lived with Sherlock for quote a while now, haven't you, John?" Mycroft asked, bringing his left leg up and placing the ankle atop his right knee. He leaned forward slightly to reach for the tea cup Anthea offered with a nod of thanks before allowing himself to rest against the back of the chair. This conversation called for a comfortable setting, relaxed and unhurried in order to dissuade any unease.

John nodded, casting a small smile towards Anthea as he accepted his own cup of tea and settled back into his chair. "Just shy of a year now, yes. Why?"

"Living in close quarters with Sherlock like you do, you are often in close contact with him, yes?"

John couldn't stop the eye roll that brought on. If there was one thing he'd learned while living with Sherlock, it was that the man had absolutely no sense of personal space. He was insufferable like that, picking the lock on the bathroom and John's bedroom when it was inconventient for conversation to have the door between them, regardless of how John felt about the situation. 

"I'll take that as a yes," Mycroft smiled, for once genuine in his good humor.

"No shit," John huffed, unable to curb his answering smile. Mycroft wasn't really that bad of a guy once you got to know him. He was a bit obsessive in his protectiveness of his younger brother, and a bit overbearing at times, but he had a good head on his shoulders and a good heart. 

"I feel," Mycroft began and paused as he shifted to a more comfortable position, his eyes trained on the dark liquid in the cup cradled gently in his grasp. He took a deep breath and let it slowly before starting again. "I feel, with the amount of contact you have with Sherlock on a daily basis and all that you have already been through together, that it is prudent you obtain certain knowledge that not very many are privy to."

John looked up at Mycroft, his shoulders straightening into his military stance even as he maintined his calm and collected demeanor. "What are you getting at, Mycroft? Is something wrong?"

Mycroft shook his head, setting his cup to the side and waiting for John to mimic the move before continuing. "William Sherlock Scott Holmes," he paused, holding his hand towards Anthea and the file she held before passing it to John and contuing, "was killed during what should have been a routine mission on January 9, 2009. Approximately one year and twenty days prior to your meeting."

John stared at the file in his hands, a picture of a slightly younger Sherlock with an obviously fake smile on his face standing next to Mycroft with what appeared to be their parents seated in front of them. No doubt a family photograph taken on what appeared to be the Christmas just before Sherlocks apparent death.

"But," John began, pausing as he turned the page to another picture. This one an autopsy photograph; Sherlocks still form lay face up on a metal slab just before incision. He almost looked as though he could be sleeping, but his pallor was just a bit too pale. John's breath caught and he had to look away a moment before turning back to the file. He continued to peruse the information, taking in the mission details and the cause of death (punctured lung, unable to gain access to medical treatment in a timely enough manner as to prevent death). It was dreadful, reading about the death of the man he had come to consider his best friend over the rather short time they'd had together.

Finally, John finished reviewing the file and looked back up at Mycroft. "If Sherlock is dead, who am I living with?"

"A very good question, Doctor."

"Do not patronize me, Mycroft," John growled as he scooted to the edge of his chair. "I have lived with this man for ten and a half months. I don't even know who this man really is. I've followed an absolute stranger around the streets of London and have allowed myself to trust him enough to let my guard down around him. What if he's a murder, Mycroft? What if..." he trailed off as Mycroft snorted and quickly brought his hand up to cover his mouth.

"I apologize, John. It's just that, even when he was alive and working for SIS, Sherlock couldn't possibly have killed anyone. He was well trained in all manner of self-defense, yes; but Sherlock's heart was far too big. He was always a bit difficult to get on with, but for those that managed to get close to him, such as Mrs. Hudson and Lestrade, and I believe if he had known you when he was alive then you, too, would be in this small group, Sherlock Holmes would do absolutely anything in his power to protect you."

"That's nice, but you still haven't answered my question," Johns tone had begun to lean towards annoyed, which, when dealing with a Holmes, was really more of a default setting than anything. "Who am I flatsharing with?"

"That," Mycroft paused for a deep breath, "would be a working prototype WIL Module Four."

John stared at Mycroft with a blank face for a moment, his mind temporarily clearer than it had ever truly managed to be. "A robot?"

Mycroft nodded as he leaned forward for his tea cup. He nearly let his displeasure show through when he sipped the now tepid brew and Anthea stepped forward quickly to replace both his and Johns cups with fresh-brewed, piping hot tea. He nodded his thanks and turned back to a still blank-faced John. 

It may just be a while before he comes back around, he thought as he sipped his tea.


End file.
